


Song for a Young Girl

by Zimra



Series: I Wish the Wars Were All Over [5]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Family Drama, Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3822565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zimra/pseuds/Zimra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Bëorian refugees have reached Brethil, but their troubles are not over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song for a Young Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/gifts).



Emeldir watched the three women who sat on the other three sides of the small table, and knew that she must look just as careworn and tired as they did. Still, she had to try and keep her low spirits from showing on her face. They had been through too much, and she could not let them lose faith in her now. 

“What did they tell you?” Bregil asked. Her husband’s oldest and only surviving sibling was nearly seventy, and looked older; the long journey had aged her. She walked with a cane now, and the last remnants of her dark hair had turned grey.

“The Halad gave me the Folkmoot’s decision. This winter has been hard, he said, and they do not have much food stored away. Brethil cannot support us all.”

Bregil crossed her arms. “How many will they take?”

“No more than they have to,” Emeldir said heavily. “Anyone who cannot go on will be allowed to stay - those who are sick or injured, very young children and their mothers, the elderly. Anyone who can leave, must.” 

Beleth sighed, Mendis grimaced slightly, and Bregil looked bitterly resigned, but none of Emeldir’s kinswomen seemed very surprised. They could all see the strain their presence had put on Obel Halad after less than a week. The Haladin had done their best to house the refugees in communal buildings and abandoned homes, but some Bëorians had been forced into more temporary shelters, where they were exposed to the harsh whims of early spring weather. 

“When will you leave?” Bregil asked. She knew Emeldir would never be able to stop until all of their people were safe and settled, and Emeldir was grateful for her tacit approval.

“Not for a few days. They will give us that long to prepare, at least. And - there is another matter that will require my attention, before I can go.”

Bregil frowned slightly, and Mendis and Beleth exchanged glances. 

“Lord Haldir, Lady Glóredhel, and I discussed it at length, and they agreed to a marriage between Beldis and their son, Handir.”

The silence was so complete that Emeldir’s ears rang, but she forged on. 

“They are close in age, and would remain betrothed for a few years before the wedding took place. It is risky, perhaps, but I believe it will help tie our people to the Haladin more permanently.”

She turned to Bregil. “Do you think Beldis will agree to this?”

Bregil was stubborn and proud, but she was also practical, and Emeldir knew that her sense of duty to her family eclipsed everything else. Now she placed her hands on the table and sat up a little straighter in her chair. 

“My granddaughter will do what she must, and I will be here to support her.”

Emeldir nodded. “Of course.” There was no question that some of the women in this room would stay in Brethil, and she had already given the matter considerable thought. She turned to the woman on her left; Beleth looked distant, as though half her mind were elsewhere, and Emeldir had to fight to keep the concern from her face. “You should remain as well. Brelin will be more likely to recover here, and you should stay with her.” 

Beleth took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Will Mendis stay?” She turned to look at her sister-in-law. “I would feel safer if you were the one taking care of her.”

Mendis and Emeldir exchanged glances. The younger woman had paid close attention to the discussion but had not yet spoken, and now her dark eyes held a question as she waited for her leader’s word.

“I need Mendis with me,” Emeldir said. “It’s not so far to Dor-lómin, and it should be safer than the journey from Ladros, but we have to be prepared.” 

Beleth nodded, eyes downcast and lips pressed together into a thin line. Emeldir reached out and laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “There are many healers in Brethil, and I won’t leave without making sure all our wounded are being properly cared for.” 

Mendis nodded agreement. “I believe that Brelin will be fine,” she murmured, covering her sister-in-law’s hand with her own. “Just being warm and dry these last few days has done her good. You’ve seen how much more alert she is.”

Beleth squeezed Mendis’ hand hard, but she bowed her head and raised no more objections. Emeldir pressed on.

“Mendis, will you find Beldis and bring her here?”

“I will go,” Bregil said firmly, before Mendis had even opened her mouth to answer. “She should be just outside. I left her watching her cousins and some of the other children.”

Emeldir did not question her, and the three of them remained seated in silence until Bregil returned, leaning on a young girls’s arm. Beldis helped her grandmother to her seat and glanced nervously around at the solemn faces of the women sitting before her. She was a pretty girl, with big dark eyes and thick, wavy black hair - very much Brandir’s daughter, Emeldir thought sadly, down to her quiet disposition. Arassel had been talkative enough for all three of them. 

“I have important news, Beldis, some of which particularly concerns you,” Emeldir explained. “I spoke with the Halad today, and his lady as well. The Folkmoot has ruled that only those who cannot travel any further will be allowed to stay, and that the rest of us must move on within a few days.” 

The girl’s serious face grew more troubled, but she said nothing. 

“However, you will not be among us. The Halad's son and his wife have agreed to a marriage between you and their only heir.” 

Beldis’ eyes widened; she let out a small gasp, then closed her mouth tightly. Her gaze flicked back and forth between the four of them, almost as though she were trapped and searching for a way out. 

“I know it’s rather sudden,” Emeldir said gently, “but you won’t have to marry right away; Handir is only fourteen. Such a match would do much to ensure that our people are accepted here. I will stay until after your formal betrothal, and then you will live with Lord Haldir’s family until you are old enough to wed. And you won’t be alone - your grandmother cannot travel any further, so she will remain here with you.”

“Come, Beldis,” Bregil said firmly. “Will you agree?”

Beldis twisted the fabric of her skirt around her hands. “Of course, Grandmother,” she said softly. “Only…there’s one thing…” 

“What is it?” Emeldir asked. 

“My friend, Siriel. Do you think…could she stay here with me? As my companion, or -” she seemed to be grasping at a word that was just out of reach, then gave up and looked imploringly at Emeldir instead. 

“I will speak to Lady Glóredhel,” said Emeldir, silently relieved that the girl had asked for a favor she could grant. “I’m sure we can arrange for Siriel to stay. You will be a lady yourself one day, you know.” 

Bregil stood up from her chair and kissed both of her granddaughter’s cheeks. “You’ll be alright, my girl,” she soothed. Beldis’ face had gone rather blank.

“May I go back to the children now, Aunt?” she asked, avoiding Emeldir’s eyes. 

“If you wish,” Emeldir said. “One more thing, Beldis - the lady Glóredhel would like to speak to you before you meet her son. Your grandmother and I will take you to see her tomorrow afternoon.” 

Beldis nodded, and fled the room. 

Emeldir turned back to the other women at the table, their faces all as grim and weary as they had been when they first sat down. 

“Very well,” she said, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Tomorrow I will announce the Haladin’s decision, so we can begin the business of sorting out who will stay and who will go.” 

~

The lord’s hall in Obel Halad was not as large or impressive as her great uncle’s hall in Dorthonion, but the lady Glóredhel was startlingly beautiful - graceful and very tall, her shining golden braids still untouched by grey. She greeted Bregil and Emeldir courteously, then turned to Beldis. “You are very welcome, daughter,” she said. Beldis could only manage a weak smile in return, and hoped that this elegant woman wouldn’t notice her reluctance and consider it rude. 

The lady Glóredhel, however, smiled warmly and said, “Would you like to take a walk with me? It’s a beautiful day, and I would love a chance for us to get to know each other a little better.”

Beldis tried to speak but couldn’t find the words until she felt her grandmother’s firm hand on her shoulder, lending her strength. “It would be my pleasure, Lady Glóredhel,” she managed to say without stammering. The lady offered Beldis her arm and Beldis took it, forcing herself not to glance back at her family as Glóredhel led her from the hall out into the afternoon sunshine.

The sun shone in a cloudless sky for the first time since they’d arrived in Brethil, and the warmth of it on her skin lifted Beldis’ spirits a little. She followed Lady Glóredhel into a fenced garden, where the lady brought her to a wooden bench beneath a tree covered in small white flowers. Glóredhel’s hair shone in the dappled light, and the delicate robe she wore over her green gown was embroidered with flowers very like those on the tree.

Her elegance made Beldis grateful for the hurried preparations her aunts had put her through that morning, even if it hadn’t made much of a difference. They had found a dented tub somewhere and Beldis had helped them fill it with lukewarm water, then she’d scrubbed herself clean while Bregil washed and mended her only dress. Beleth had combed and braided her damp hair, and the others donated a few bits of jewelry that had survived Dorthonion mostly by accident: a necklace that Mendis almost always wore, containing a healing charm from her former teacher, Beldis’ aunt Hirwen; a string of dark red beads that Brelin’s father had given her for her birthday last year, which Beldis only agreed to wear at her cousin’s repeated insistence; and a pair of earrings Emeldir had found wrapped in cloth and stuffed in the bottom of one of the packs, though none of her family members recognized them. Beldis was cleaner than she’d been in weeks, but she still felt hopelessly shabby next to Lady Glóredhel. 

“How is your cousin? Brelin?” Lady Glóredhel asked. “I heard from Lady Emeldir that her health was improving.”

Startled that the lady knew Brelin’s name, Beldis just nodded. Glóredhel smiled, and Beldis managed a small smile in return. 

“I wanted to speak to you before you met Handir. I hoped I could help to put you at your ease,” the lady went on. “My marriage to Haldir was arranged, and we barely knew each other before the wedding. I was frightened, too.”

“Y-you were?” Beldis stammered, staring up at the kindly face above her. 

“Yes, and I was much older than you are, and had not suffered nearly so much.” Lady Glóredhel’s blue eyes were sad. “I will do my best to help you feel at home here, and I know Handir will as well. He is a kind boy. He’s fourteen - just a year younger than you, I believe. He takes after his father,” she said, smiling fondly. 

Beldis caught herself wishing that he took after Glóredhel instead, though she knew that was unfair of her when she hadn’t even met Lord Haldir yet. And how bad could either of them be, if this woman was so fond of them? 

“When I first arrived in Brethil, I felt so lost. Even the land seemed strange; I missed the fields and the rolling hills. But I came to love my husband dearly, and I found happiness here. In time, I hope you will be able to do the same.”

“I hope so too, my lady.” 

~

Beldis found Siriel outside a rundown outbuilding that had been repurposed as shelter, helping her aunt cook dinner over a small fire. She stood up quickly when she spotted Beldis, wiping her hands on her skirt and hurrying over to meet her. Her smile faded when she saw the look on her friend’s face. 

“What’s the matter? Has something happened? It’s not Brelin, is it?” 

Beldis shook her head, toying with the fringe on her shawl. “Can I talk to you for a little while?”

The other girl glanced back at her aunt, who waved them away and said, “Go on, I can finish up here on my own.”

Siriel took Beldis’ arm, and the two of them made their way through the clustered tents and houses toward the forest. Beldis noticed with concern that though her friend’s wounded leg had all but healed, she still walked with a slight limp, so slight that Beldis might not have noticed if they hadn’t been pressed so close together. 

They stopped a short distance past the tree line, close enough to see the village but far enough away that no one would be able to hear them. Siriel leaned against a tree and crossed her arms.

“Now will you tell me what’s going on?” she asked, sounding a little annoyed and very worried. 

It was chilly in the shade of the trees, now that the sun had begun to set. Beldis drew her shawl more tightly about herself and avoided meeting her friend’s eyes. “You’ve heard that we can’t all stay? Aunt Emeldir said she told everyone this morning.” 

“Yes, I heard. I suppose all my family is leaving, since I’m healed now and none of us are too old or too young.” A look of horrified realization came over Siriel’s face. “Oh no. Brelin will have to stay, and your grandmother, but the rest of you…Beldis, I’m so sorry.” 

“That’s not it,” Beldis said quietly. “I mean, we are separating, but Beleth is staying, and so am I. I’m to marry the Halad’s grandson, Handir. Aunt Emeldir and my grandmother believe that it will secure our people’s place among the Haladin, if the wife of their lord’s heir is one of us.”

Siriel looked stunned. For an alarming moment Beldis thought she saw tears in the other girl’s eyes, but Siriel quickly wiped at them with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. “Have you met him?” she asked, her voice shaking a little. 

“Not yet,” said Beldis. “I met his mother earlier today. She was…very kind. I think she felt a little sorry for me - she told me that her marriage to Lord Haldir was arranged, too, and that everything would be alright even if I was scared.”

“Oh, Beldis,” Siriel murmured. “I never thought…once all of this was over, I hoped we could…I’ll miss you.” She was trying not to cry again, and Beldis’ stomach seemed to be trying to tie itself in knots. 

“I asked Emeldir if you could stay with me, and she said she thought that would be alright!” she blurted out. Siriel stared at her, mouth open, and Beldis flushed. “But I know your family can’t stay, so…you need to go with them, if that’s what you want.” 

Siriel said nothing, and Beldis found herself feeling very aware of her friend’s appearance. She was a little taller than Beldis, with brown hair that was lighter and curlier than her own. Today she wore it tied back as she usually did, but a few unruly ringlets had escaped to frame her face. Her travel-stained dress hung loosely on her body, too thin from weeks of walking and worrying and starving. Beldis had a sudden impulse to embrace the other girl, to hold her tightly and never let go as if that would keep them both safe for the rest of their lives. 

Siriel’s face was very close to hers, and Beldis could see the way her brown eyes glowed, how they held a hint of green in the right light. Then she saw nothing at all, for Siriel leaned in and gently pressed her lips to Beldis’. 

The world seemed to turn on its head for a moment, but then everything fell into place and suddenly a great many things began to make sense. Beldis looked at Siriel’s face, bright and hopeful and apprehensive all at once, and burst into tears.

“What’s wrong?” Siriel cried. “Beldis…if that wasn’t what you wanted I’ll never do it again, I promise!” 

Beldis shook her head and buried her face in Siriel’s shoulder. Siriel tentatively put her arms around her. 

“I’m sorry,” Beldis mumbled through her tears. “I don’t want to stay here, I don’t want to get married, I want to go home!” 

“I know,” Siriel said, holding her more tightly now. “I wish we could go home, too.” She stroked Beldis’ hair. “But I know how brave and strong you are. You saved me during that attack, and after I got hurt I never would have made it through the mountains without you. You’ll survive this place - we both will. We’ll take care of each other.”

She let Beldis go and sat down with her back to the trunk of the tree, then tugged on her hand. “Come here,” she said, and Beldis lowered herself slowly to the ground to sit beside her. She leaned against Siriel and closed her eyes, shifting closer when Siriel put an arm around her. 

Tomorrow she would meet her future husband, a stranger who she was supposed to live with for the rest of her life. In a few days she would lose Emeldir and Mendis who had cared for her, and Morwen with her stubborn strength, and Rían who had cried herself to sleep in Beldis’ arms every night since they'd arrived in Brethil. Soon she would have to face all these painful truths, but for now she was content to lie under the tree in the late afternoon chill, feeling the warmth of Siriel’s body next to hers. For the first time in weeks, Beldis felt a glimmer of hope for the future.


End file.
